Israel Freyer—the Government Jew— Good as the best—soaked through and through With credit gained in the year he sold Our Treasury’s precious hoard of gold; Now through his thankless mouth rings out The leaguers’ last and cruellest shout! Pity the shorts? Not they, indeed, While a single rival’s left to bleed! Down come dealers in silks and hides, Crowding the Gold Room’s rounded sides, Jostling, trampling each other’s feet, Uttering groans in the outer street; Watching, with upturned faces pale, The scurrying index mark its tale; Hearing the bid of Israel Freyer,— That ominous voice, would it never tire? “Five millions more!—for any part, (If it breaks your firm, if it cracks your heart,) I’ll give One Hundred and Sixty!” One Hundred and Sixty! Can’t be true! What will the bears-at-forty do? How will the merchants pay their dues? How will the country stand the news? What’ll the banks—but listen! hold! In screwing upward the price of gold To that dangerous, last, particular peg, They had killed their Goose with the Golden Egg! Just there the metal came pouring out, All ways at once, like a water-spout, Or a rushing, gushing, yellow flood, That drenched the bulls wherever they stood! Small need to open the Washington main, Their coffer-dams were burst with the strain! It came by runners, it came by wire, To answer the bid of Israel Freyer, It poured in millions from every side, And almost strangled him as he cried,— “I’ll give One Hundred and Sixty!” Like Vulcan after Jupiter’s kick, Or the aphoristical Rocket’s stick, Down, down, down, the premium fell, Faster than this rude rhyme can tell! Thirty per cent the index slid, Yet Freyer still kept making his bid,— “One Hundred and Sixty for any part!” —The sudden ruin had crazed _his_ heart, Shattered his senses, cracked his brain, And left him crying again and again,— Still making his bid at the market’s top (Like the Dutchman’s leg that never could stop,) “One Hundred and Sixty—Five Millions more!” Till they dragged him, howling, off the floor. The very last words that seller and buyer Heard from the mouth of Israel Freyer— A cry to remember long as they live— Were, “I’ll take Five Millions more! I’ll give,— I’ll give One Hundred and Sixty!”